The Tangled Webs She Wove
by Ashika
Summary: Meryl has a bad habit. She lies to herself. She likes to think of herself as strong, but in her moments of weakness she lies to herself. Vash and Knives collide in her world and she can’t even lie the past to rest. -One-Shot-


**The Tangled Webs She Wove  
****By:** Ashika  
**Summary: **Meryl has a bad habit. She lies to herself. She likes to think of herself as strong, but in her moments of weakness she lies to herself. Vash and Knives collide in her world and she can't even lie the past to rest.  
**Disclaimer:** Trigun and all subsequent characters belong to companies and businesses that have no relation to me whatsoever. Therefore any legality has no bearing on me. I make no profit from this whatsoever. Please do not sue me.

* * *

Oh, what tangled webs we weave, when we practice to deceive. – Sir Walter Scott

* * *

She never had delusions of grandeur. In this sad, dust-ridden world she told herself she was content with this dead-end job. The lies she told herself were worth the instants of comfort they brought.

At first it was just to keep warm at night – a game. Her mother used to tell her to pretend the fire was blazing and she had a comforter made of bearskin. Never mind that Meryl did not know what a bear was, let alone would she know what the skin would feel like.

It seemed to help. The shivers would slowly stop and, though the chill of night never went away, she could finally fall into sleep. Mornings were the worst. It was cold and she didn't want to get up.

But the sun was shining and there was so much to do! Another lie she told herself. Most of the time it worked.

As years passed she stopped using the silly lie to fall asleep. She had bigger, more important things to lie about. The whoppers of them all floated to the surface when she was sent into the field to find the $$60,000,000,000 man – Vash the Stampede.

She told herself that this crazy, compassionate man was definitely not him. Vash the Stampede was merciless and insane. He was ten feet tall and he held all humanity in contempt. He blew up July. He would kill without a hesitation and he got himself out of the most desperate of situations.

It took weeks before she could accept that this - _childish_ comedy of a man was to be the person shehad to keep twenty-four hour surveillance upon.

And it took even more time for her to realize that the Bernadelli Insurance Society didn't expect her to come back. What sort of sane company sent out two young, inexperienced, women into the field tramping across the world to corner Vash the Stampede? And even when she told herself that she was a completely capable woman, she knew she was lying to herself.

They had sent _her _and Millie. Millie, though Meryl loved her to pieces, was a little slow on the uptake. And though Millie had incredible empathy, she was just not…quick. And one would think that when dealing with Vash the Stampede, one should be quick.

Sometimes Meryl told herself that Millie was just like her, quick and efficient, and she would feel for that moment secure in her job. But reality, as always, would come crashing onto her little bout of sunshine. And she would remember that she was never going to move up in her job.

Once in awhile, Meryl would think about never going back. She could live out her days with Vash, whom she would swear she didn't love, and Millie. They would live quite happily in a rebuilt July.

That was before Meryl met Knives. That was before Vash had the gall to bring back his brother - the brother who was exactly what she had once pictured Vash as. He really was merciless, insane, and condescending. He hated her before he even saw her. And it was his fault that July was in ruins. His fault Vash was always in such trouble. His fault she had to follow Vash.

When Vash asked her to take care of Knives, she hadn't understood what he was asking. In asking this favor, he was relinquishing all holds on his past. But she hadn't known that. Neither had she bothered to question his motives.

Knives' ability to heal was beyond comparison. Within two weeks he was standing and walking short distances. Meryl wondered why Vash had so many scars, with abilities like this. She told herself that Vash wasn't like Knives at all. For once the lie took hold and her contempt for the prodigal brother stayed firm.

Knives seemed to enjoy snippy conversations with her. Meryl thought maybe she amused him. She amused him in the way one is amused by taking a magnifying glass on a sunny day to a hill of ants. So she sniped and took amusement as well.

Though the days seemed pleasant enough, Vash slowly slipped into a depression. Meryl told herself it wasn't possible. But this was a lie that would definitely not hold. He had slipped many times before and she could do nothing.

By simply pretending it was not happening she could avoid it. Knives sneered at her for the cowardice, but she sneered back, announcing that he was doing nothing either to help his brother. A sullen look had crossed that twin to Vash's face.

She laughed in his face before leaving the room.

Days later Vash could not even get himself out of his room. Not for pancakes, not for donuts, not for Meryl. And Meryl could no longer avoid this depression. Millie, though she would have been perfect for the job, was no help. Her day shift working the wells kept her busy all day and exhausted at night.

Meryl sometimes wondered how death of Wolfwood really affected her. She wondered if Millie liked to lie to herself as well. Millie had told her as much before the Knives incident.

But with Vash acting like he was, Meryl had even less time to ponder things than before. Meryl began caring for Vash – something she had always wanted to do – and spending less time with the brother. Vash seemed to get slightly better, but she thought maybe what he really wanted was his brother.

Knives never once stepped foot into the room. He spent more time with Meryl in the kitchen than he did with his brother. Knives was being cruel, or so she thought. And Vash was suffering all the more for it.

She yelled at him one day. She yelled at Knives. She called him a bastard, a coward. She told him to get his ass into his brother's room.

He only sneered, "My brother and I have a connection beyond your pathetic spider understanding."

She was so angry she left the house for hours. Upon her return, she immediately went to see Vash. He looked no better. She left and encountered Knives.

"Do something!" she yelled.

"I can't."

"Of course you can. You're his brother. His only family."

"Shut up."

"Not until you do something to help him."

"No." His voice was low and ominous. Meryl plunged on with her campaign.

"Why not?"

"Because Vash wants to die."

His tone was matter-of-fact and Meryl didn't really think he was lying. So she did the only thing she could think of. She denied his accusation.

"You're lying. Vash would never do that. He hates suicide!"

"Who said anything about suicide?"

"You said Vash wants to die," she snarled.

He shot her a superior look. "Yes, and he will eventually do so. But he hasn't committed suicide. He will die when he feels like it." His next words were so low she had to strain her ears. "Or when his hair finally blackens…"

Meryl didn't know what he meant by that and she didn't want to know. So she didn't ask.

A week passed before she stopped telling herself that Vash was just going to get better. He now refused to look at her for anything but the odd moment. At those times he didn't even recognize her. He called her "Rem." That hurt more than she let on.

Knives heard him call her Rem once and he laughed. A cruel and pitiless laugh, he told her, "You are nothing more than a memory to him. You think you love him? He only loves a ghost."

Nothing Knives told her she believed anymore. The hurtful things he said burned in her mind and she lied and lied and lied to herself. It wasn't true. Vash would love her. Vash did love her. Just as she loved him.

The day came when Vash left his room and walked out the door. Meryl ran after him, crying. "Where are you going?" she sobbed.

Vash the Stampede didn't look back. He didn't look forward. He looked to the ground and trekked onward.

Dust pranced around him as if welcoming him to their domain.

Knives came forward and put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry it happened this way." There was no spite, no harshness to his tone. There was only pity and sorrow. He hesitated. "He says good-bye, Meryl."

She turned to him then, eyes shedding tears in little silver rivers. "How do you know? Oh, Knives, tell me how you know. Please." She ran into his chest, sobbing. "I need to know."

He was motionless, his arms stiff by his sides. His voice was calm and devoid of emotion, comforting in its familiarity. "My brother and I have a connection beyond your understanding."

The tangled web of lies came undone. The blurry falsehoods she told herself became clear as a summer blue sky. Knives had never lied to her. For all his harsh and spiteful words, not one had been a lie.

Vash did not, _could not_, love anyone but the woman he called Rem. And Knives had been right. With his unspoken words he had told her, "You cannot defeat this intangible enemy. You cannot defeat a ghost."

And she couldn't.


End file.
